The echo of Lord Uwell's voice filled the dimly lit hall of Cevastein's council chamber. Vem stood at attention, his posture stiff as the tension between him and the man before him thickened. Uwell's gaze, sharp and unyielding, seemed to cut through the air, probing for any trace of deception in Vem's expression.
"Explain to me," Uwell said, his voice a calm but deliberate force, "what exactly you found at the Black Sea."
Vem kept his face impassive, drawing in a slow breath to steady his nerves. The memories of that night lingered with unsettling clarity, each detail vivid in his mind. Yet, beneath Uwell's calm demeanor, there was a subtle urgency, a hunger for something Vem could only guess at. He weighed his words, knowing that any slip could expose more than he intended.
"We found remains," Vem began, his tone carefully measured. "Fragments of what was once… human, I think. But twisted, altered into something unrecognizable. Something dark."
"Dark," Uwell repeated, the word laced with intrigue. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled as he regarded Vem with a calculating look. "You say 'dark' as if you've glimpsed more than mere shadows. What precisely do you mean?"
Vem hesitated, sensing the trap laid within Uwell's question. He knew he needed to be cautious, to avoid revealing the depth of the encounter. "The presence felt wrong," he replied, choosing his words carefully. "It was as though something unnatural had taken root there. It's hard to describe—like an echo of something that should not exist."
Uwell's eyes narrowed, his gaze darkening as he absorbed Vem's words. There was something in that look, a flicker of recognition, that made Vem's skin prickle. It was as if Uwell understood more than he was letting on, a shared knowledge concealed behind a mask of indifference.
"And the creature?" Uwell pressed. "You encountered the Succubus, didn't you?"
Vem's heart skipped a beat, but he maintained his composure. "Yes, we did," he said, keeping his voice even. "The creature was relentless, as if it had been waiting for us. We barely escaped with our lives."
Uwell leaned forward, his expression turning calculating. "Describe it for me. Every detail."
Vem clenched his fists, feeling a surge of irritation rise within him. He sensed an underlying agenda in Uwell's insistence, a purpose hidden beneath the surface of his interrogation. "It was human once," he replied, choosing his words deliberately. "Or something close to it. But now, it's a twisted amalgamation of flesh and shadow, driven by a single-minded fury."
"And yet," Uwell mused, a faint smile tugging at his lips, "it allowed you to escape. Curious, don't you think?"
The question struck a nerve. Vem had wrestled with the same thought ever since their retreat. It didn't make sense—if the Succubus had truly intended to kill them, it could have done so without hesitation. There had been a hesitation in its movements, a moment of recognition that had stayed its hand.
Vem met Uwell's gaze, his mind racing. "What are you getting at?"
Uwell's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. "Perhaps you saw something in the Succubus that others missed. A connection, maybe? A shared understanding?"
Vem bristled, his fists clenching tighter. "If you have something to say, say it plainly."
Uwell leaned back, his expression unreadable. "I only wonder," he said slowly, "what makes you so certain that this creature is your enemy. Perhaps, given the right approach, it could be… persuaded."
The suggestion sent a chill down Vem's spine. The idea of allying with a creature as twisted as the Succubus was unthinkable. And yet, Uwell's tone held a dangerous allure, a hint of possibility that gnawed at his resolve.
"Why do you care so much about the Succubus?" Vem demanded, unable to keep the suspicion from his voice. "What do you know about it that you're not telling me?"
Uwell's expression remained neutral, but his eyes flashed with a hint of something Vem couldn't quite place. "I have my reasons, Vem. Reasons that concern the safety of this realm—and your place within it. Remember that."
Vem felt a surge of anger, his hands shaking as he struggled to maintain control. "If there's something you're hiding, I deserve to know. I was the one who faced it. I was the one who almost died."
Uwell's gaze hardened, a steely edge entering his voice. "And I am the one who holds this kingdom together. Your loyalty is not to question my motives, but to trust that I act for the greater good."
Vem clenched his jaw, his fists trembling with barely contained frustration. He could feel the tension between them, a silent battle of wills that neither of them would surrender. But he knew he had to tread carefully—Uwell's power was not to be underestimated, and any act of defiance would only draw further suspicion.
Taking a steadying breath, Vem forced himself to relax, meeting Uwell's gaze with a calm determination. "As you wish, my lord," he said, his voice cool and composed. "But know this: if there's something you're hiding, something that puts us all at risk, I will find out."
For a moment, Uwell's expression softened, a faint glimmer of something resembling respect flickering in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced once more by the cold detachment that had marked the entirety of their conversation.
"See that you do," Uwell said, his tone laced with a warning. "But remember your place, Vem. You are a warrior, not a scholar. Your role is to fight, not to question."
Vem said nothing, his silence a quiet defiance that spoke louder than words. Without another word, he turned and left the chamber, the heavy wooden doors closing behind him with a resounding thud.
As he made his way down the dimly lit corridor, Vem's mind churned with questions. Uwell's insistence, his veiled references to some hidden knowledge—it all pointed to something far darker than he had anticipated. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the Succubus than he had been told, something that went beyond mere shadows and nightmares.
And as the memory of Uwell's gaze lingered in his mind, Vem knew one thing for certain: he would find the truth.